


Running

by thelittlechef



Series: Finding Your Way Home [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 12:38:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3692610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlechef/pseuds/thelittlechef
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is tired; what he would really love is a place to hide away from the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running

When Steve gave up, it wasn’t all at once, but rather bits and pieces. Slowly and almost unnoticeable, until one day, he found no reason to get out of bed. He was awake, yes, and there was no reason to go back to sleep, but the idea of getting out of bed was simply more effort than it was worth.

Steve gazed at the ceiling quietly, knowing that if he stayed too long, someone would come looking for him, as they always did. This didn’t give him any peace. Surely it was nothing more than a perfunctory job to them. Make sure the relic was still alive and kicking. All he wanted to do was curl under the covers and hide from the world. If he were to waste away, who would really care? All of his friends were dead, or no longer remembered him. He didn’t want to think of Bucky.

He was warm under the sheets, as if they could keep out the cold that sunk into his bones. Even as he lay there though, he could feel the cold slowly creep into his feet. Maybe if he curled up more, it would go away. But no, if he stayed in bed, someone would come. He had to get up. If only he could— slowly, he shifted towards the edge of the bed. One foot, then the other slid from the protective cocoon he hid himself in.

_Get up_ , Steve told himself. _Being a slug never helped anyone._

He quietly freed himself from the warmth and changed into day clothes. It was time for a change of pace. Tell everyone he was taking a break for a couple weeks. Find a spot to lose himself in.

 

Steve left his building with a coffee in hand ready to face the world. For a short time, at the very least. Maybe it could be a quiet day. Somehow, the city was even louder than he remembered. Brighter. Perhaps he was just tired of people though. Steve just wanted to curl up and sleep the world away.

He headed to a small Internet café and found a computer to use. Hopefully, it would take Tony a bit longer to find him this way when he left. Steve browsed through places to stay, lingering in ads for Brooklyn. He knew he wouldn’t stay there. It was both too obvious and too painful. Everywhere he looked, places had changed. Not always obvious, but it had only been a few years for Steve, and for the world, over fifty. His home was gone, his favorite places were gone, all the people he had known gone or dead or as good as. All he wanted to do was find a place to be forgotten.

A small ad for a farm in upstate caught his eye. He clicked on it, not expecting much. The owner had died, and the children didn’t want it, or so the ad implied. It was quiet and rural and the closest place was an Amish town.

Steve wasn’t looking to buy, not really, but he supposed this would about as perfect as he would find. He sent them a note and logged off. He could hide in Central Park for a while before checking back for an answer.

 

When he logged back in, he was surprised to find he already had a reply in his inbox. Apparently, not many people were interested in the property— something about the location. Either way, he was welcome to come and visit anytime. _The sooner the better_ , the email said _. We were hoping to pass the property to someone who would love it as much as our mother did._

Steve stared tiredly at the screen. If he went today, he wouldn’t have to think about it again. He sent them back an email warning them of his impending visit, then headed back to the tower to collect his motorcycle.

 

“Back so soon?” asked Tony as Steve passed him in the garage.

“Hmm? Yeah. I’m going on a ride for a bit.”

“Let JARVIS know when you’ll be back,” was Tony's flippant reply. “Wouldn’t want to order you dinner for nothing.”

A lifetime ago Steve would have bristled at that, but today, he couldn’t really bring himself to care.

“Yeah, yeah. See you later,” he replied.

 

As he drove, a stillness settled in his gut. The scenery so very different from everything he had known from before, and there was no distortion between his past and present. He could stay here without worry, he knew. Maybe… just maybe.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Steve arrived, the current owners were standing outside, waving cheerfully. They were both wearing paint-spattered coveralls, and had clearly been productive as they waited for him.

“Hello,” greeted the shorter of the two, a young woman with bronze hair. “My name is Emily, its lovely to meet you!”

The man, presumably her brother, grinned at Steve. “Don’t be frightened off by Em, she’s just happy someone wants to buy the property and not build it up. You’re the first so far. You wouldn’t believe some of the people so far. Some guy wanted to make his own town here!”

Steve laughed, dislodging the stillness that had settled in him, and reveled in the tiny ray of hope that flared in him. “That would be a terrible thing to do,” he agreed. “You’re Brett, correct?”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s me. Sorry, got a bit carried away.”

“Its no problem—” Steve started, only to be cut off.

“You always get carried away Brett,” Emily ribbed. “That’s what makes him so loveable,” she directed to Steve. “Feel free to hassle him about it. Mum won’t be around to do it anymore, and I can only do so much.”

It was, Steve reflected, a bit like seeing some alternate version of himself and Bucky when they were younger.

“Of course! It would be my pleasure.”

Emily smiled, and ushered Steve inside. As he followed the two, he contemplated Brett’s pink and blue hair. _People are very different nowadays._

 

“We’ve been trying to clean the place up since Mum passed. She was very old fashioned about decoration, all doilies and floral patterns. Thankfully, it hasn’t taken much to clear out the place, but we figured whoever moved in would prefer a fresh coat of paint instead of her dreadful wallpaper,” Emily explained. “Hence the rather terrible paint smell. We haven’t quite finished painting everything, as you can see from our clothes. Turns out wallpaper is a pain to get rid of.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever removed any,” said Steve. “So I suppose thanks are in order? Assuming I buy the place, of course,” he added hurriedly, flushing a deep red.

“Oh, we hope you do,” Brett chirped. “You’re our favorite by far.”

The farmhouse wasn’t very large, just two bedrooms, sitting room, and a kitchen. It was clearly an old building; the lavatory wasn’t even connected to the main house.

“Sorry, about the lav,” the two siblings said, almost in unison. They looked at each other and snickered.

“Mum was always going on about how having an outside lav kept her hearty,” added Brett. “Personally, I’d attach it to the house, but we haven’t had time or the knowhow to do it. And everyone seems so determined to tear the place down.”

Steve looked around the house, relishing the warmth that seemed to permeate every inch of the place. “That would be a terrible thing to do,” he agreed. “Although attaching the toilet to the house seems to be a smart thing to do, if I have any guests.”

The siblings smiled, clearly pleased with him. Steve was struck with the sudden compulsion to buy the place on the spot. _Why not?_ he figured _Might as well spend my money on place to hide._

 

It was undoubtedly a foolish thing to do, Steve reflected as he left the house. Buying a house in the middle of nowhere when he had no intention of staying. But something kept pushing him forward, and before he could think too deeply into the compulsion, he had the deed in his hands and all of his possessions were packed away. He didn’t have much, just a couple duffels, plus a few boxes of bedding that had appeared overnight.

_A new home to start over_ , he thought to himself. _Maybe I can stop being so tired then._

As he unlocked the front door, Steve was surprised by the interior. The two siblings hadn’t left the walls the bleak white as he had expected them to. The kitchen was now a warm goldenrod, new checkered tiles covering the floor, and the counters were a lovely unsealed cherry wood. In the center was a small circle table with a note on it, which Steve picked up gingerly.

_We hope you enjoy the new decorations,_ the card read. _It was the matter of some debate. We’ve refurbished some of Mum’s old stuff for you. You didn’t seem like you had much. If you don’t want it, feel free to get rid of it; we won’t be hurt. We hope you love the house as much as Mum did. Cheers, Emily & Brett._

 

 

 

 


End file.
